


Crystalized Eyelashes

by MaybeThereMaybeNot



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Buried Alive, Gen, Hypothermia, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeThereMaybeNot/pseuds/MaybeThereMaybeNot
Summary: His fingers can't move, and eyes are frozen shut. Snow covers most of him and a chill is settled into his skin. Tim's mind can't help but draw comparisons to the Drake Mansion's empty hallways, the heat accidentally left off in winter.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	Crystalized Eyelashes

Wind howls against Tim's ears, and his breath forms in white clothes. The city sits oddly still tonight. Snow falls from the gray sky, sticking to everything in sight. One by one the other Gotham vigilantes sign out, until only Tim is left. His fingers are numb and likely blue under the gloves, but he cannot move to check.

Red drops are a stark contrast to the white surrounding him, most of it likely Tim's. Shivers wreck his body, hypothermia likely having already set in. Goosebumps likely cover every inch of his skin.

Part of Tim's mind plunges into memories of Drake Manor's cold and winding hallways, the heat accidentally cut off by his parents. Or at least, that's what he hoped. His mind flickers through his memories of the cold. It flutters between Drake Manor and taking pictures of Batman and Robin. But mostly the manor, chasing the famous vigilantes giving too much adrenaline to feel the cold.

His fingers are far too numb to press the emergency beacon, so Tim has to settle for hoping someone will notice him gone. It's unlikely though, with Tim always returning to his apartment. The only chance he has is if someone notices he didn't sign off.

Tears freeze against Tim's face, his eyes welded shut by them. Sleep tugs at him, but Tim fights it off. There's almost no chance of surviving if he does. He's been flitting in and out of consciousness for who knows how long, unable to make sense of the world around him.

***

_Tim's sitting at his childhood bedroom window, watching Wayne Manor's windows as the occupants happily bustle about. He can almost sense their warmth, something he longs for. Tim knows by now that his parents turning off the heating can't be a mistake, but always shuts the thoughts deeper down._

***

Snow covers Tim's body in the alleyway, attaching itself to everything. The comms have been silent for a long time, or at least that's what he thinks. If they have been on, Tim couldn't hear it through his brain's fog.

Blood steadily drips from his wounds, one of the benefits of nearly being beaten to death. The cold has taken over his mind, unconscious becoming more and more frequent. Tim's thoughts are sluggish, few and far between. He's long since accepted that he will die out here, unable to call for help.

Time edges by, nonsensical and strange. His shivers become far more rare, a terrible sign.

***

_There wasn't a lot of food in the fridge. Tim had long since outgrown a nanny, and his parents didn't like paying housekeepers, maids, and cooks while away. He spent his days bundled in an absurd amount of sweaters, trying to keep from freezing. School had long since ended, letting everyone out for break. Through the windows, he can catch glances of the Waynes playing the snow, and he can't help but long for it. To them the snow is fun and amazing, not something deadly and to be feared. But Tim can't help but forgive them, because they didn't go through having the heat gone._

***

"Has anyone seen Tim?"

Dick jerked his head up in surprise. Jason almost never came to the manor unless Alfred asked him to. And yet, here he is in the middle of a blizzard with many members of the family.

"Now that I think about it, I don't believe I have," Barbara answers. She grabs her laptop and boots it up before typing away. "Tracker's offline," she whispers before digging deeper.

"We need to find him," comes Jason's rough voice. Dick gives a nod and moves to grab his gear.

Barbara lists his last ping and sets up the comms. Dick notifies everyone else. They grab all their warm gear and split up.

Tim needs to be found, and fast.

***

He lays in the snow, blood barely dripping from his wounds. Blood is likely moved to his core to keep warm, but all he can feel is the ice. Even with insulators and some heaters Tim was shutting down.

***

_The only room off limits is his parents' bedroom. It is a no touch zone, and to go in feels like breaking a law. So instead he grabs every other blanket he can and tangles himself inside them. His fingers tremble as Tim flips through his box of photos. Most are of Jason, but he can't help but stop at a certain picture. Dick stands with his arm looped around Tim, Jack and Janet smiling in the background. If he squints, Tim can see Richard and Mary Grayson getting prepared for their final act in the background._

***

The amount of his body above the snow is getting less and less, the cold seeps more and more into Tim's bones. His ghost would likely never find a way to get warm.

***

"Come on, come on, come on," Jason chants under his breath. 

Tim had to be around here somewhere. Jason couldn't stand it if another Robin dies today. 

His eyes catch on some drips of red, most likely blood.

"I found what seems to be blood. It's possibly Red Robin's," he says over the comms.

"Start digging, we're coming to your location" comes Bruce's voice, but Jason doesn't reply. He already did start digging.

Minutes later he hits something different from the chunks of snow and ice he'd been pulling out.

"Tim," he breathes, quick to push away all the other snow. Sure enough, there he lays with skin tinted blue.

The batmobile pulls up and out runs Bruce. Jason pulls Tim from the snow and holds him close. The batmobile welcomes them, and they speed to the batcave.


End file.
